


Every Little Transgression

by The58thAcademic



Category: Criminal Minds (US TV)
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, Because that conversation on the plane was, David Rossi Acting as Spencer Reid's Parental Figure, Episode: s03e16 Elephant's Memory, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, Parental David Rossi, Protective David Rossi, Protective Derek Morgan, Ridiculous, Sad Spencer Reid, Spencer Reid Needs a Hug, Spencer Reid's depressing childhood, because he literally saved a life, suicide attempt (mentioned)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-13
Updated: 2021-03-13
Packaged: 2021-03-21 12:35:13
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,621
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/30021867
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/The58thAcademic/pseuds/The58thAcademic
Summary: Ok so. Elephants memory was really good because we got Reid backstory. But I'm still annoyed that he didn't defend himself against Hotch. So this was born.
Relationships: Aaron Hotchner & Spencer Reid, Derek Morgan & Spencer Reid, Emily Prentiss & Spencer Reid, Spencer Reid & David Rossi, The BAU Team & Spencer Reid
Comments: 15
Kudos: 80





	Every Little Transgression

**Author's Note:**

> So this was inspired by a very similar work I read, but I can't remember the name so If anyone knows it please comment!! Also if anyone has any detailed prompts that would be great!! It picks up right after Hotch says Reid is keeping score.   
> Edit- thank you so much to Sznup for giving me the name of the work this was inspired by, in case anyone wants to go and read it's "The Reluctant Collector" by Brennah_K

“I have no choice but to keep score Hotch!”, Spencer retorted, with a rare flash of anger “I couldn’t forget even if I wanted to!” 

Hotch sat back, surprised by his uncharacteristic outburst. He observed the man in front of him, who had turned to face the window. Spencer ran his hands through his hair, aggressively enough that Hotch would not have been surprised if he had torn some out. Still staring out of the window, the younger man cut him off before he had the chance to speak. 

“Do you know why I choose not to use technology, Hotch?” He didn’t wait for a reply. “I know you all believe me to be a technophobe, or technologically inept, but just because I do not use technology does not mean I do not know how to.” 

Hotch almost interrupted his rant, but the coolness on Spencer’s face and the unfocused look in his eyes as he turned back around caused him to catch the words as they crawled up his throat. He’d waited too long to reply anyway, and so Spencer carried on. 

“It’s funny,” he said, eyes shining with mirth, “how you all think I would be able to complete Ph.Ds. from both M.I.T and Caltech without knowing how to use a computer.” 

He shook his head slightly, as if reminding himself to stay on topic, and his eyes became angry once again. 

“I have no choice but to keep score, because I could not forget even if I wanted to. Eidetic memory, remember?” 

He chuckled slightly, as if having recalled an inside joke. 

“I remember everything. Every insult, every injury, every little transgression, and every day- every goddamn day- I wish I had the ability to forget. I remember everything ever said to me, I remember everything I ever read, and I remember everything that’s ever happened within my eyesight, and it is a fucking curse Hotch!” 

His voice was soft, unassuming, and deadly. He knew swearing would draw the attention of the rest of the team, but he was too far gone to care, and Hotch’s retained composure made his blood boil. 

“I remember all the names I was called- freak, fag, whore- and exactly how many times I was called them, and I remember exactly how many times I was beaten up behind the sheds at the back of the basketball courts, and I remember exactly how many of those times resulted in a broken bone, or any injury serious enough to warrant medical care. I remember how many times my mother attacked me with a knife because she forgot who I was, and how many scars I have from those incidents. And how many times I had to research how to treat those injuries because I couldn’t afford to go to a hospital, or risk letting anyone find out about my mother's condition.” 

By the end of his speech he was heaving, curls wild as they fell from behind his ears. He was too worked up to notice. Spencer briefly thought, seeing the shocked faces of his team in his peripheral vison, that he would later regret losing control like this in front of them. He saw Hotch open his mouth as if to reply, so he raised his voice slightly, and continued. 

“I remember the exact words Harper used to trick me into meeting Alexa behind the sports hall, and exactly how many people held me down as I was stripped naked in front of my entire senior class. I remember that 14 classrooms that had a clear view of me as I was dragged towards the football field, and that all of them still had teachers in them. I remember their hands-” here, his voice broke. Yes, he had told Morgan this story, but not in this much detail. He took a breath and continued. 

“and their teeth, and their lips, as they found different ways to humiliate me, whilst I _begged- whilst I begged-_ for them to stop. I can recall-I can _see_ -the make, feel, and colour of the ropes they used to tie me to the goalpost- the way they damn near cut off circulation to my hands, and the way it burned around my wrists as I struggled to get away from their wandering touches.” 

His voice cracked, and he closed his eyes, shaking his head again as if to get rid of the memories. Spencer took a shuddering breath, ran his hands down his face, and continued. 

“I remember that it took them 3 hours, 2 minutes, and 43 seconds before they left me there, and that it was 17 hours, 23 minutes, and 56 seconds to untie myself, and that after that 20 hour, 26 minute, and 39 second ordeal, I returned home. To realise that my mother, _my mother,_ hadn’t realised that I was missing.” 

“I remember going back to school the next week, and seeing the faces of the football team, and the cheerleaders, and the people who stood by and did nothing as I pleaded for them to do something. I know all of their names, and all of their faces, their social security numbers. And thanks to my M.I.T and Caltech education, I know how to use that information to ruin their credit scores. Ruin their marriage. Their children's chances of getting into ivy league schools. I have the power, to _destroy their lives,_ just like they did mine. But I can’t do that.” 

“Why not?”, Hotch said with a curious tone, taking advantage of Spencer’s pause. 

“Because if I take my revenge, I would be no better than an inmate on death row willing to kill two FBI agents in a last ditch bid to avoid the death penalty,” he bit out, relishing in the flinch his words brought, “no better than a traumatised woman imitating Jack the Ripper’s crimes, and no better than a neglected teenage boy who thinks the only way to solve his problems is by killing his bullies and by shooting up a police station.” 

“I have to believe, that by not retaliating now that I have the power to, I will be able to talk all those people down from whatever cliff they have been driven up, and that I will be able to relate to those people better and save more lives.” 

“Because taking revenge would be no better than committing suicide, and I’m not trying that again, not now I have something to live for.” 

Emily’s voice broke through the haze his words had cast over him. 

“Spence... What do you mean by “trying that again”? Have you...” 

Her voice trailed off, and Morgan picked up the question where she left it. Neither of them wanted to ask, but they had to know. It broke their hearts to imagine it, but it wouldn’t be very difficult to imagine the defeated boy in front of them trying to kill himself. 

“Spencer, have you tried to kill yourself?” 

His head shot up and he attempted a watery smile. 

“After hearing that story, would you even believe me if I said no?” 

The team stared- Hotch’s façade of calm, Rossi’s indifference, Morgan’s cover of humour, Prentiss’s air of superiority, shattered. They were replaced with horror at his words, and anger when they saw just how hard he was trying to keep from crying. 

Hotch was no longer annoyed at his previous actions, and shared a look with Rossi, both of whom were more concerned with their pseudo-son. 

Spencer closed his eyes and elaborated. 

“The first time, I was 14. I’d just started university, had no friends, half my professors refused to acknowledge my presence, and the other half spent their entire time looking at me like I was something stuck to the bottom of their shoe. I went back home for a weekend, to see my mother, and she didn’t recognise me. Got a three-inch slash to the arm and ran off. Found myself sitting on the edge of a bridge. The second time I was 18, just finishing my second Ph.D. I’d met Gideon two years before, and occasionally he would check up on me, but in a way no more personal than someone checking on an investment of theirs. The last time I spoke to him he said that he was close to getting me into the academy. My professors refused to believe that I hadn’t cheated my way into the school. One of them refused to pass me in his class unless I slept with him. I got back that evening, got my roommates pills out of the cupboard. I got a call, just as I was about to swallow them. Gideon, saying I got into the academy. I never got as close as that again, but I considered it. After Hankel.” 

He jumped slightly as he felt arms wrapping around him and opened his eyes. Rossi had sat down in the seat next to him and was hugging him tightly to his chest. 

“Rossi?” 

“Bambino, if you ever feel like that again, you come to us. I don’t care if it’s the middle of the night. You are part of our family; we will always have time for you.” 

Spencer couldn’t remember the last time he’d been hugged. He also couldn’t remember the last time someone told him they cared about him. His chin trembled and he tried desperately not to cry. 

“Pretty boy, I know what it's like to feel like that. If you ever need to talk, I’m here.” 

He looked up at the rest of the team, his father-figure's arms still around him, and felt more at home than he had ever felt in Las Vegas. 


End file.
